


Caught in the Act

by thefanficawakens



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Blood and Injury, F/M, Sandwiches, bad priorities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 05:23:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6787147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefanficawakens/pseuds/thefanficawakens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The General is rather overprotective of his errant and headstrong lover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caught in the Act

**Author's Note:**

> Not my best work, but I dredged this up from when I had just started writing again.

ou let out a hiss of pain as the ship took another sharp turn, jerking your right shoulder which you clutched at so tightly your fingers were white. The bandages were pulled tight, stemming the bleeding, but they failed to provide any cushion to the movement of the ship taking you back from your latest mission. Across from where you sat, Kylo’s scowl deepened as he stepped towards you, boots reflected in the polished metal floors.

“You lied. It’s more painful than you said.” You glanced up at him with gritted teeth.

“I said I’m _fine._ I’ll go to the medbay when we get back.” Came your quietly obstinate reply. Perhaps you should’ve taken more than one painkiller shot…

Although a highly specialised soldier, you were still a resilient trooper at heart and refused to admit to impediment or injury. You’d had many injuries like this one before, of course, only this time the blaster shot had seemed to travel deeper, cleaving a painful gash through the muscle tissue in your bicep. You supposed that the small resistance branch you had fought down in that pitiful settlement had access to better weaponry than the First Order had first presumed.

In an attempt to distract yourself, you focused on the velvet blue hues of deep space roll past the transport ship’s window, watching for the huge pupil-like aperture of the Starkiller base to roll into view. The icy moon was close and the ship neared its destination – the base always reminded you of a giant floating eyeball.

A hard clunk and a jerk signalled that you had landed back in the Starkiller space dock; you winced as the sudden stop made your arm swing in the socket.

“Hux will not be happy.” Ren’s voice sounds again, this time with an edge of irritation at the thought of the General getting angry, most likely primarily at Kylo himself. A creeping sense of dread trickles into the pit of your stomach. It wasn’t anyone’s fault but your own (if anyone was to blame, really it was the now dead resistance member who fired the shot), but you were Ren’s subordinate and therefore in Hux’s eyes his responsibility. You had to restrain yourself from groaning out load with the thought of how angry he would get at the both of you.

“Don’t tell him.”

“You’ve been injured. What with your… involvement with him, I owe him at least that much-”

“Ren.” You cut him off. “Don’t say a word to him.” His eye twitched at the omission of his title from your address, but he chose to ignore your impudence, giving a curt “As you wish” before sweeping out the ship. You hoped the cost of your boldness wasn’t going to be another set of control panels.

You stood carefully, keeping your shoulder from moving too much, then moved your hand away. Moving at a measured but (hopefully) normal pace, you exited the ship into the vast dock. A cold gust of wind blew in from the gaping entrance into the cave of black metal and chrome; you shivered as the hairs on the back of your neck stood up.

The medbay should be your first stop, judging by the hint of red that had started to gently seep from under your bandages. However, the grumble in your stomach begged you to go in a different direction and grab some dinner. You stood for a minute, considering: if you go straight to get fixed up, you could avoid Hux (and his wrath) but you would no doubt not be allowed to eat anything while being treated, and even afterwards the only available food would be the awful medbay sludge (or at best supplements brought from the canteen). On the other hand, if you made a detour to your quarters you shared with your ginger-haired partner, you risked bumping into him, but you could sate your appetite with some good food and maybe change out of your grubby attire.

It only took a second of consideration before a sharp grumble emanating from your belly decided for you - a few Stormtroopers looked round from their posts and you flushed with embarrassment, resolving that your shoulder could wait until the painkillers wore off.

Using one of the reflective walls in the space dock, you attempted to cover your injury as much as possible. If you adjusted your stance so you stood tall and pulled your uniform over fully over your arm, you looked passably normal. Alrighty.

The walk to your apartment was thankfully a relatively short one, so with your measured step you could get there within about ten minutes. You moved as quickly as you could, trying to keep your arms by your sides and giving polite nods to the Stormtroopers who gave you a respectful “Ma’am” as you passed.

After about seven minutes of brisk strides, black walls gave way to the familiar underfoot lighting of the living sector; given that you shared your living space with the General yours was relatively large and tucked away in a private corner, away from the regular trooper housing. The entrance to your quarters came into view at the end of corridor 345B, and you risk jogging your bad arm by quickening your pace. After swiping your ID to open the sliding door, you scanned the room for your lover: empty. This time you gave an audible groan of relief.

The clang of boots on metal changed to a soft pad as you step onto the carpet, fearing being further berated by Hux for stepping mud into the room but too starved and exhausted to attempt to pull them off. The familiarity of the place that housed you slowed your rather laboured breaths and you regained a sense of composure that had been lost on the transport ship. There was a mental warmth housed here; in each spot in the apartment, you could envision a different moment with your boyfriend that you held like treasures in your mind. There by the large windows was where you stood with his arms around you, sharing a kiss for the first time: on the couch with the neatly arranged cushions was where you had once fallen asleep on his chest… A sharp pang of hunger brings you back to reality and your line of sight sharply to the kitchen.

Your fridge stood, glowing gently like an angel, in the corner of your kitchen unit, and you swore you’d never been happier to see it than you were now. Almost forgetting to be careful with your bandaged shoulder, you rush over, throw the door open and grab a Clingfilm-wrapped sandwich from one of the shelves. You didn’t think it was possible for cold beef and lettuce to taste so good.

“Enjoying yourself?” _Caught._

You turned to see Hux standing with his arms behind his back, smiling gently next to the now-closing door. Unbeknownst to you, he had entered during your sandwich-induced reverie and now stood staring as you leant on the counter with bread crumbs around your mouth. “Welcome back.” You could hear the tinge of relief around his voice, alongside the softened tone that only you had the privilege to hear. You tried to keep your expression and tone of voice normal.

“It’s nice to be back.” You smiled genuinely; you missed Hux when you go away from missions and you didn’t have to fake the warm affection you felt by being near him again. A sense of vague panic cut through you as he took a few steps closer to you – the sandwich was abandoned as you tried to subtly edge for the bathroom.

“I’m, uh, all sweaty, I’m gonna take a shower-” your words died away as, undeterred, Hux halted directly in front of you and reached for your waist; not having the physical or emotional strength to stop his touch, you brace for impact. _I’m doomed._ However, inches before his gloved fingertips made contact with your uniform, his expression changed and concern flickered across his features. His hands took a new direction and made contact with your cheek, stroking gently.

“You look pale… and you’re clammy… are you-” his arm moved suddenly, too fast to prepare for, and took your bad shoulder in a loose grip. A jolt of pain flew down the muscle and you groaned involuntarily, twitching in pain and causing your uniform to slide off to reveal the now soaked bandages.

You hardly dared to look up at Hux’s face as a heavy silence settled between the two of you, but you could tell without seeing his expression that it would be morphing between shock and anger.

“Why did you not tell me?”

His voice cut through the silence between you and caused you to sink your line of sight even lower to his boots. His fingers curled under your chin and forced you to look up to face him, eyes dark with seething anger.

“Why was I not informed by Ren?” he spat out the name.

“I… asked him not to.”

“ _Why?_ ” malice crept into his shaking voice.

“Hux, I can look after myself! This is my job – I have to take risks and-“

“And _why_ are you not at the medbay?”

“…I was hungry…” the ghost of an amused expression flitted over his features before returning to anger tinged with exasperation.

“Clearly I cannot trust you if you choose sandwiches over treatment for your wounds.” Protests bubbled on your lips but were quickly cut off as you felt him grip your body; with one swift, fluid movement he had you in his arms.

“H-Hey! I can still walk, you know!” you began to struggle half-heartedly but were quickly cut off by his stern expression.

“We will continue this discussion later – for now, we are going to the medbay.” For a minute, you were tempted to make an escape, but quickly submit to the tiredness that took hold of you after you were off your feet.

“Oh, and (Y/N)?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice that you tracked mud into the carpet.”


End file.
